


Dirty Laundry

by boyonthebluemoon



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Comedy, Crack, Gen, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-08 20:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17393426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyonthebluemoon/pseuds/boyonthebluemoon
Summary: All Alex wanted that morning was a glass of water and a quick trip to the bathroom without any trouble. Was it too much to ask for?(Warning: Very crack fanfic. Proceed with caution.)





	Dirty Laundry

7:35 AM. Alex had just woken up and was going down the stairs groggily, yawning ostentatiously as he rubbed his bleary eyes. He just wanted to drink a glass of water, and maybe go to the bathroom afterwards.

“It might take me about 5 minutes tops, and I can go back to the sweet company of my warm bed.” He thought with a sleepy smile, already relishing the thought of sleeping for another couple hours. But unbeknownst to him, life was just beginning to plot against his plan.

“Okay, first things first, water.” Alex muttered to himself as he began making a beeline for the kitchen. But he made it past the door before his feet hit something solid and he tripped, falling face-flat on the ground.

“Ah fuck, that hurt. What the hell...?” Alex groaned as he rubbed his cheek. Lifting himself up off the ground, he discovered that what he tripped on was not something, but _some **one**_.

“ **Rian!**  What the _hell_ are you doing sleeping on the damn kitchen floor?” Alex shouted directly in his friend’s ear. Rian only snored loudly and rolled over in return, contentedly hugging a bag of flour as his makeshift pillow.

“What’s all this ruckus about?” Zack asked as he dramatically entered the room, shirtless and wearing pink striped pajama pants that were too short for him and ended in the middle of his calves. “You woke me up from my sweet dream, just as it was getting real good.”

“Oh I’m so sorry for interrupting another one of your weird burger dreams.” Alex replied sardonically with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s not just a burger dream! And it’s not weird! It’s a burger being served to me, the perfect fucking burger and you know it, but you never let me have a bite!” Zack defended. “Now, what the hell are you doing yelling in the kitchen at 7 in the morning for anyway?”

“See for yourself.” Alex replied, stepping aside to present their sleeping friend.

“Oh, that.” Zack nodded slowly in understanding, and then slapped Alex on the arm. Hard.

“Jeezus! Zack, you’re gonna dislocate my shoulder, strength man, strength!” Alex complained, rubbing his bruised arm. “What the hell was that for?”

“Shhhh, don’t wake him up Alex.” Zack scolded.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Alex scoffed. “That's Rian freaking Dawson. He can pretty much sleep through an earthquake, a storm, and an entire apocalypse all at the same time!” He proceeded to grab some greasy pans off the kitchen sink, to further prove his point, and began banging them together, while screaming, “Hey Rian, there’s a totally hot supermodel at our doorstep and she’s looking for you!”

Rian didn’t even stir. Alex dropped one of the pans on his head, and he simply waved a fending arm off and murmured incoherently before returning to deep slumber.

“See?” Alex grinned at Zack victoriously.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But was giving Rian a concussion really necessary?” A wearied Zack asked.

“Not really, that was a total accident, my hand just slipped. Sorry, Ri.” Alex apologised sheepishly, patting Rian on the head gingerly. “But you know, this still doesn’t answer my questions. And I have good couple of them.”

Zack shrugged. “Maybe I can answer some. Shoot.”

“Okay, one.” Alex began. “Where did that bag of flour come from?” He asked, pointing to the said item that Rian was happily embracing.

Zack scoffed in reply. “Oh, easy. Late night TV and ten cans of beer.”

Alex blinked. “...Was that supposed to answer my question?”

“Yes.” Zack deadpanned.

Alex momentarily stared at him in disbelief before giving up. “Seeing as this is probably gonna get me nowhere and nothing but frustration, I’m moving on to question two. Why is Rian sleeping on the kitchen entryway?”

“Well, he was supposed to be sleeping under the kitchen table, but you know Rian. He’s a bit of a restless sleeper.” Zack answered nonchalantly.

Alex glanced at their kitchen table, which was about five feet away from the entryway, and nodded. “Yeah, no kidding.” He agreed. Then, realising he was straying from the point, he shook his head. “Wait wait wait, that’s not the point though. Why is he even sleeping in the kitchen in the first place?”

“Because he’s not sleeping in his bedroom?” Zack replied rhetorically.

Alex threw his hands up in exasperation. “What the hell Zack, when are you ever gonna give me a straight answer?”

Zack smirked in amusement. “The day Jack stops tweeting about our hard bodies and/or his bowel movements.”

“Which means never, basically. Grrreat.” Alex sighed. “Just one last question, because I’m honestly starting to get a headache from all of this..." He pointed to the undersized clothes Zack was wearing. "Are those my freaking pajamas?”

Zack shrugged in admission. “I ran out of clothes to wear.”

“Which would be avoided if you actually did the laundry.” Alex explained slowly with a jaded smile.

“Ah, whatever. I'll own it. Dirty laundry looks good on me anyway.” Zack said confidently, a casual smirk on his face.

Alex scoffed at Zack. “You only say that because dirty laundry is piling up in your room.” He paused as he pondered momentarily on their conversation. “Wait, that actually sounds like a good idea for a song." he said excitedly. "Zachary Steven Merrick, write that shit down!”

Zack shook his head. “For the last time, I’m not your secretary, Alex.”

Alex came to a sudden realisation. “Hold on though...was that you I heard rummaging my closet last night? I thought it was a freaking rat or something.

“A rat?” Zack squinted at him quizzically. “A rat that quietly asked for your permission to enter and was whistling a Creeper song while taking down the hangers in your closet? Alex, what the hell are you on.”

“I was half-asleep, okay? I thought it was just a really lucid dream.” Alex hedged defensively. “To be fair, I guess rats couldn’t really whistle. And even if they would, they wouldn’t be whistling a Creeper song.” he pointed out.

“Yeah, and rats also aren’t six feet tall and borrowing your pajamas in the middle of the night.” Zack added.

“Hold on, why am I the enemy here? You were the one that snitched my pajamas in the first place!” Alex protested. “You probably stretched out the waistline. Damn it Zack, my mom gave me those pajamas for my 15th birthday.” he observed with a slight frown.

Zack glanced down at the pastel pink pajamas he was wearing and smirked knowingly at Alex. “Awww, that’s actually adorable.” he teased.

“Shut up.” Alex shot him down with a deadly glare. “But the shirt though? Where is it?”

“Badly soaked in sweat.” Zack grinned apologetically. “I used it to work out last night before I went to bed. Sorry Alex, I’ll just return it to you.”

“Ugh, no thanks. You can keep it. All of it.” Alex grimaced. “Just...just get Rian out of here, okay? I don’t wanna lose a couple teeth tripping on him again, and I’m pretty sure the germs on the kitchen floor are gonna catch something from him.”

“Will do.” Zack grabbed Rian off the floor, and with one quick heave, slung him over his shoulder as if he weighed virtually nothing. Then he began making his way back upstairs to put Rian in bed. “And keep it down, will you?” Zack called out to Alex as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex grumbled. “I’m just really thirsty now. Water, here I come!”

Alex checked the floor one last time to check for any other sleeping bandmates blocking his way, and continued walking when he saw none. Five steps later, he slipped on a puddle of spoiled milk and fell for the second time, hitting his elbow painfully on the counter on his way down.

“Fuck, really? Really?!” Alex said exasperatedly as he laid on the floor, his shirt soaked with disgusting curdled dairy and his funny bone tingling madly. “And it’s only 7:48 in the freaking morning. Sure life, lay one on me.”

He grabbed for the counter to steady himself and as he stood up, he saw that the refrigerator was slowly thawing, leaving a mess of water and liquids and various perishable products everywhere.

Alex rubbed his temple, trying not to let his irritation get the better of him. He knew fully well who the culprit of the whole mess was.

“Jack, you left the fucking fridge door open again!” he shouted.

“That’s the same thing your mother told me last night!” Jack shouted back saltily from his room.

“What? That doesn’t even make any sense!” Alex simpered. “I’m gonna get you back, Barakat. Just you wait. Clean this up!”

“I’ll clean you up!” Jack replied threateningly from behind the walls, and Alex heard muffled slamming sounds coming from his bedroom, accompanied by a little “Ow!”

“Hey, keep it the shit down!” Zack’s annoyed voice interrupted. Rian, as if acquiescing with him, ripped out a loud snore that seemed to shake the walls of the entire house.

“Sorry Zackie!” Alex apologised, calling out one more time, as Jack yelled “I’m keeping your shit down!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jack was sleep-talking.” Alex muttered, rolling his eyes as he sidestepped the disgusting milk puddle and sullenly shut the fridge door, kicking aside the overturned milk carton with distaste. He grabbed a glass from the shelf, and, after filling it with tap water, drank deeply without pausing.

“Well, I feel slightly better. Ish.” He breathed. “But I gotta get out of these nasty clothes. I smell like one of Jack’s wet socks.” He sniffed himself and grimaced. “Ugh.”

Alex stepped over the milk puddle once again and headed to the bathroom, cautiously staring at the floor for any obstacles so intently that he nearly slammed into the wall several times. When he got there, he removed his filthy shirt and wrung it out, washing his hands to get rid of the awful-smelling spoiled milk.

“I should probably take a shower.” He thought, and then abruptly shuddered. “Taking a bath at 7 in the morning? Who have I become?”

“Never mind. I washed most of it off anyways. I’ll just take a piss, put on a clean shirt, and then go back to sleep. Oh sleep, I have forsaken you.” Alex soliloquised dramatically.

And so Alex went on about his business. After he was done, he pressed the flush button, but to his great astonishment, instead of the water swirling into the toilet bowl and disappearing off into the sewers forever, the water immediately shot up and hit him directly in the face.

“Shit! Oh fuck, this is gross!” Alex shouted, shielding his face as he tried to avoid the filthy water. Amid the loud sounds of torrential splashing toilet bowl water and his own gurgling voice, Alex could hear a familiar voice laughing victoriously behind him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his knuckles and screamed.

“FUCK YOU, JACK!”

~*~

**Somewhere in the near future...**

Jack was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet as he played Angry Birds on his phone.

“Just gotta hit that son of a bitch with this blue bird, and I’m three-starring this level.” Jack strategised. “Oh you think you’re so smug now, little green pig? Well you’re gonna regret stealing my eggs. Eat my birds!” he proclaimed tauntingly, and released the slingshot.

The plan worked. The birds flew. The pigs vanished into scores. The screen showed ‘level completed’ and three glimmering stars. “Ha, ha!” Jack exclaimed proudly, and he exited the game. “For an old game, it’s still pretty fun. Whatever.” he thought.

“Oh, I gotta tweet about this. Hold on.” Jack said, and he opened the Twitter app and began typing. “Just...taking...a...shit...and...playing...some...angry...birds...(And I won!)...what...are...you...guys...up...to? There. Perfect.” He grinned lopsidedly in satisfaction as he tapped the tweet button.

“Okay, time to get outta dodge.” Jack flushed the toilet and reached for the toilet paper. But as he tried to stand up, he found that he couldn’t.

“What the hell...?” he uttered in confusion. He tried standing up once again, and then winced as he felt his skin nearly tear off. “What the hell?!” he repeated, louder this time. As if on cue, a small note slid out from under the doorway, stopping just by his feet and further adding to Jack’s bewilderment. Jack picked it up and began to read.

“ _Hey Jack, are you...glued to your seat now? (haha pun) Anyways, superglue on the toilet seat. Clever, huh? I said I was gonna get you back for being a total pain in the ass (sorry, I can’t resist again), Barakat. Enjoy having your sorry butt handed to you...literally! :) -Love, Alex ♥”_

“ALEEEEEEEEEEEEEX!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my older bandfics. It was initially supposed to be a really serious fic about Alex (which I might actually write later on), but I wrote this in a span of one afternoon whilst trying to keep my sleep-deprived arse awake in the middle of class, and well...that's my weak excuse for creating this abomination. Do with it what you may.


End file.
